


Now We Got Problems (And I Don't Think We Can Solve Them)

by gingerink



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Betrayal, Blood, Crime Fighting, Gen, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Training, bad blood AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5171645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerink/pseuds/gingerink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the Bad Blood music video. </p><p>Lewis betrays Nico. Nico has to find himself again and figure out if he’s capable of inflicting revenge upon his old lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now We Got Problems (And I Don't Think We Can Solve Them)

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sat in my drafts for far too long.  
> Enjoy!

Nico doesn’t remember much of that night; he remembers Lewis grinning at him, wide, white – too wide, too calculating, Nico thought he knew Lewis, he thought he finally understood what lurked beyond those dark eyes. The same dark eyes that narrowed slightly as his boot hits Nico’s chest, sending him falling out of the window. Nico’s eyes focus on Lewis as he falls, almost weightless, his eyes look dark and emotionless, his face is like a blank canvas; like the old Lewis is gone. Nico closes his eyes for a moment, thinks about the lips that ghosted over his, the callouses on Lewis’s fingers as they rested on his hipbone. He wonders if Lewis is truly lost to him.  
  
The sobering thought that he could be hurts more than when he hits the car, glass flying up around him. He glances up at the glass building he fell out of – was pushed out of – Lewis’s figure is still, unmoving, glancing down at Nico, broken on the car, his blood staining the silver paintwork. Lewis turns away, his long coat blowing in the wind. Nico feels his eyes slide shut.  


* * *

  
  
He awakes in the laboratory, his father is standing before him; his face is blank and colourless, the only colour that Nico can see is his father’s eyes – bright blue – he feels the edge of pain dance over him once more, a scream tears from his lips. His father’s lips pull on the cigar in his mouth. Nico watches the end of the cigar glow red in the dim light, the blue smoke curls around his face.  
  
“Won’t be long now, son.” His father says before he fades out, Nico goes back under.  
  
Nico awakens once more, pain ripping itself through his body. He feels the gasp brush past his lips. He feels sluggish and strange; his last thoughts are of Lewis, of his father’s eyes, of the curve of Lewis’s lips as his boot connects with Nico’s chest. Nico exhales as he hears a bleeping. There’s a scanner; everything is white, everything is clean and clinical and Nico hates it. He feels the nausea curl up inside him as he turns his head slightly to the left. His father is still before him, there’s another cigar in his fingers. It’s almost burnt down to the filter.  
  
Nico tries to speak but no words brush past his lips.  
  
There’s a cool hand on his temple. “Don’t speak, Nico, all will become clear.” His father says, his voice is gravelly. Nico falls back into sleep again. He dreams of brown eyes, of betrayal.  


* * *

  
  
When Nico comes back into consciousness, the white room has gone, the bleeping sounds have gone. He’s out of danger. He feels himself be tugged upright; he stumbles slightly, still dizzy with thoughts and sleep still clinging to his eyelids. He doesn’t feel himself; he’s led into a mirrored room. He allows his eyes to slide over himself – he doesn’t look any different – a little sharper, tougher, rougher than he was. He wonders if he’s awoken as a new person, if he can cut away his old identity like Lewis. Lewis – the betrayer, Lewis kissing him, Lewis looking at him, his eyes shining as they both lay in bed naked – he wonders if everything was a lie. Lewis’s eyes shining like diamonds, his smile too wide curving over his smiles, mockery – Nico wonders if he could do that. He glances at himself; his long hair is gone, it looks darker, shorter, combed down over his face. It looks too clean, too pristine. He hates it, he hates himself.  
  
He moves over to the mirror, his fingers moving to graze against the mirror. He looks pale; he looks too pristine. The mole above his eye has disappeared, the jagged scar on his thumb has also been torn from existence. Nico furrows his brow. He notices something underneath the black jumpsuit he’s been clothed in. He tugs up the shiny material – there’s a jumble of wires poking out of the sleeve. Nico slides up the material further to find a smooth edge, the wires seem to protrude from his pristine skin. He grabs one of the wires, it feels smooth and cool in his hands. He’s about to yank it out when a cold hand wraps around his wrist.  
  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Kevin Magnussen’s icy blue eyes lock on him. His fingers do not yield.  
  
“Kevin-“ Nico begins, his eyes wide.  
  
“Not exactly.” Kevin says, his voice monotone. “I’m not Kevin, I’m the Holy Trinity, I’m tasked with rebuilding you-“  
  
“Rebuilding?” Nico whispers, his voice suddenly dry.  
  
“Lewis Hamilton pushed you out of a building, Mr Rosberg.” Kevin’s voice sounds almost mechanical. “You almost died, your father brought you back here and rebuilt you.”  
  
“Lewis, he wouldn’t do this to me.” Nico whispers under his breath, hurt curls up inside his chest.  
  
Kevin – the Holy Trinity – say nothing, their faces are blank, robotic, unfeeling. Nico wonders if they are meant to feel anything. Pain rips through his arm as one of the trip pull out a screwdriver and screw down the plate, hiding the wires from view. Nico bites his lip, tries to ride the wave of pain.  
  
His thoughts turn to Lewis, to the pair of them as children. They had grown up together as the children of famous assassins, they were hidden from the world; unable to show who they truly were. Nico remembers when Lewis’s father was killed, how he comforted his best friend that night, how he held Lewis in his arms, brushed his fingers through Lewis’s short hair, bit his lip against the wetness soaking into his t-shirt. Nico had brushed their lips together that night, Lewis’s face was wet against his own. Lewis had kissed back, almost desperately, his eyes were dark, dark as the night he kicked Nico out of the building.  


* * *

  
  
“The fall from the building destroyed your spine.” His father stands before him, still colourless, still almost grey. The ever present cigar is curled in between his fingers, the blue plume of smoke almost dancing around the room.  
  
“You would have been unable to walk, Nico, had we not brought you back here and rebuilt your spine, along with your arm and a few other modifications.”  
  
“You should have let me die,” Nico says, his tone is grave. “Dying would be better than a life filled with pain, a life in which I’m no longer myself. I’m a machine.”  
  
“I had to keep you alive, son, you’re the only thing I have left.” His father looks ten years older than he is, his face is still hidden in shadows, the blue smoke still curling around him, almost claiming him. There’s a vulnerability that Nico has never seen before in his father. Nico wants to ask about Lewis, ask about the briefcase, about what was so important about it. He has so many questions that remain unanswered, unsaid.  
  
“I’m sorry but I did what was unnecessary.” His father continues, his eyes take on a little softness, the hard exterior crumbles just for a moment. “Now rest, Nico, your training will begin shortly.”  
  
“Training?” Nico begins, but he is silenced by a familiar pinprick. He falls into the arms of sleep, dreams of brown eyes and broken promises.  


* * *

  
  
“That briefcase was incredibly important.” Nico glances at his father standing before him. The large glass windows showcase the glittering skyline of London behind him.  
  
“Why is it so important?”  
  
“It contains something that in the wrong hands, could be devastating for us. We need to get the briefcase back from Arsyn quickly.”  
  
“And how do you propose we do that?” Nico asks, feeling like he already knows the answer.  
  
“We’re going to train you up again, son.” His father doesn’t smile, his expression is stony.  
  
“No-“  
  
“Nico,” His father’s eyes lock on his own. “I understand that Lewis meant a lot to you, but the boy you once knew and loved is gone. He’s just a shell of what he once was, corrupted by greed and power.”  
  
“Father, there’s another sixteen people like me, surely Dilemma or Frostbyte could-“  
  
“He must be eliminated, Nico. He must be stopped and you are the only one who is capable of doing so, it has to be you.” His father’s gaze is unwavering. Nico tries not to think about Lewis, tries not to think about dark skin, dark eyes locked on his own, how Lewis’s fingers felt when they brushed against his skin; like fire, like madness.  
  
Nico eventually nods in agreement, he ignores the twisting sensation in his chest.  


* * *

  
  
Nico enters the training facility, the harsh, sterile lights hurt his eyes, making them water. He watches the man from a distance, watching his body seem to flow through the air, the machete clasped elegantly between his fingers, it cuts through the air carefully. He moves forward, tossing the blade up towards the moving target. The blade embeds itself straight through where the heart would be.  However, the man proceeds to punch the wall before him, his eyes are dark as the plaster crumbles around his fist. He looks angry, disappointed with himself.  
  
Nico stops for a moment as he watches the dark eyes fix on him – too dark to be Lewis’s, skin too pale, body more compact. Sergio Perez’s eyes never leave Nico, locking onto his every movement. Perez is infamous; known for his superior strength and his genius-level intellect, he’s a primed and effective killer, specialising in weaponry. He steps inside the room as the man pulls his fist away from the wall – Nico takes a moment to examine the mark left by Perez’s fist – the plaster cracked around the mark, a testament to the Mexican’s pure strength. His eye flicker over to where Perez is standing, he pulls out another elegant looking sword.  
  
The two men say nothing for a moment. Nico’s green eyes stay locked on Perez.  
  
“Beautiful isn’t it? It’s called the macuahuitl, such a strange weapon-“  
  
“Used by Mayans and the Aztecs, a traditional Mexican sword.” Nico says, almost reciting the information.  
  
A curl of a smile dances over Perez’s lips. “It possesses a wooden handle and obsidian blades-“ He continues as though he has not been interrupted. “I like the concept of something strong being held by something infinitely weaker.”  
  
“Dilemma.” Nico says.  
  
“Catastrophe.” Perez – Dilemma replies. His dark eyes flicker to meet Nico’s. “You are here to train with me. I will not go easy on you.”  
  
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Nico replies as Perez smirks and moves ever so slightly, moving to strike Nico with the blade of his sword. Nico moves quickly – good reflexes – the hilt of the blade hitting the floor where Nico had just been standing.  
  
“You passed the first test, let us begin.” Perez smirks.  


* * *

  
  
“I hear you’re a robot now,” Sebastian smiles at him, however, it’s not the smile that Nico remembers, it’s more challenging, controlled, calculating.  
  
“And I hear you’re still a dick,” Nico replies, the smirk curling onto his lips. He tapes up his hands, the tape is scratchy over his palms.  
  
“You’ve lost none of your sarcasm, Catastrophe.” Sebastian says, pushing away his katana.  
  
“Of course not, Slay-Z. Just an arm and the ability to walk without wires, other than that, I’m fine.” Nico says, ignoring the brush of sympathy over Sebastian’s features. “Now should we begin?”  
  
Sebastian nods, throwing his sheath holding his katana onto the floor and he pushes his feet into a fight stance, moving his hands into fists. “Lets test your basic skills,” He says, moving quickly towards Nico, swinging a punch.  
  
Nico moves out of the way, out of instinct, dodging the second punch that Sebastian throws at him. “Good instincts, good reflexes, Rosberg. But you’re not showing me any fight.”  
  
Nico grits his teeth, his hand clenching into a fist, he swings for Sebastian. Sebastian dodges it easily, ducking out of the way of the follow up punch. He seems to dance through the air easily, Nico is envious of his balance. He aims another punch, albeit more controlled, aims for the stomach to wind Sebastian for a moment.  
  
“Child’s play, Nico.” Sebastian says as he grabs onto Nico’s fist. Nico grits his teeth as Sebastian spins him around, his chest pressing against Nico’s back as he aims a punch at Nico’s kidneys. Nico curses under his breath as he moves to elbow Sebastian in the abdomen. The blonde staggers back, his eyes wide.  
  
“Dirty tactics, Rosberg.”  
  
“When you’re in the field, people don’t exactly play fair.” Nico replies as they stalk around each other once more.  
  
“You’re right.” Sebastian smirks as he moves quickly – his foot shoots out towards Nico’s. Before Nico can react, Sebastian aims a well-placed scissor kick over his ankles, making the blonde fall to the floor. Nico hisses in pain as his back hits the floor; he winces at the metallic sound that rings around the room, a clear reminder that he is different from the others.  
  
Sebastian offers out a hand. Nico takes it after a moment and is pulled back up from the floor. “You don’t need that much training. But there’s something; you are holding back, as though you are afraid of something, you are afraid to hurt.” Sebastian says, letting go of Nico’s hand.  
  
Nico says nothing, his face remains blank.  
  
“Are you afraid to hurt him? Like he hurt you? When he tossed your feelings aside with no regard for them?”  
  
“You say nothing about him, you have no right.” Nico snarls, as he stalks around Sebastian, targeting the best place for a hit.  
  
“Why not, Catastrophe? Arsyn is no god, he’s a man – just like yourself. He made you weak.” Sebastian says, his voice painfully tight.  
  
Nico doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t trust himself to.  
  
“He threw you out of a window, Nico. He betrayed you for the sake of a briefcase. He threw you out, he broke your spine, he’s the reason that you’re a freak, Nico-“ Sebastian lurches forward, his punch hits the concrete wall as Nico moves out of the way. “Yet you still love him don’t you? You do you love Arsyn, Nico? He ruined you, he ruined your life-“  
  
Nico’s calm demeanor crumbles. He screams out as he dodges punch after punch, his fist curling up tightly and hitting Sebastian, the wall, the air, everything. He can feel the circuitry buzzing in the thickening air of the room. Sweat runs down his face, seeps into his hair, into every pore; it makes him feel human. Sebastian punches him in the face. Nico feels his head snap back, the snarl of pain tears from his lips as he spits blood across the floor.  
Humanity, he thinks, being human is so precarious, like a thread dangling in a breeze, so easy to become trapped, to become nothing.  
  
He thinks of Lewis as he aims punches at Sebastian in a frenzy; he doesn’t even think about where he’s hitting, or the pain fracturing over his knuckles, he thinks about his heart beating against his ribcage, about the sweat soaking into his hair, about his humanity, about the gears clicking in his right arm as he pulls back his arm – wires where muscles once existed. Sebastian falls to the floor, panting as the blood falls down his chin. He glances up at Nico and smiles, his teeth are red from blood.  
  
“That’s it, Nico. You released all those pent up feelings, you didn’t hold back.” Sebastian grins.  
  
Nico nods, he doesn’t feel triumphant. He looks at the blood on his knuckles and tries to imagine Lewis’s blood on his hands. He can’t.  


* * *

  
  
“Evening,” Motherchucker says, his voice monotone as he pulls out his gym bag. Nico raises an eyebrow at the blonde man.  
  
Nico Hulkenberg is an unlikely assassin. He looks the part; tall and imposing, dressed in black, but there’s always a smile on his face. The smile is not present today. Hulk’s face is emotionless as in one swift motion, the handle of the gym bag rips off in his hands and he twists the nunchuks around, twirling into the air. A smirks dances over his lips as he does so with an expert hand.  
  
“Ready to go, Rosberg?” Hulk says.  
  
“Always, Motherchucker.” Nico replies, picking up his own nunchuks. He thinks about Lewis again, it’s like acid sitting in his stomach, dangerous; he thinks about the last time that Lewis smiled at him. His nunchuk falters ever so slightly.  


* * *

  
  
The snow is cold against Nico’s cheeks as he stands in the snow before Frostbyte – the most notorious and trained killer in the snow. Blue eyes – like chips of ices – flicker up to meet Nico’s green ones, the pale face is unmoving, the lips are blue but Frostbyte doesn’t shiver. He’s used to the cold – Nico has heard he’s Finnish, that his name is Kimi, that he has the highest number of kills on his folder. He doesn’t know if any of it is true.  
  
Frostbyte holds his gaze, unblinking, unmoving, like the man himself has turned to ice. Without warning, he closes his eyes. Nico pauses for a moment. He wonders if the pale man expects him to attack. He holds his stance, standing on the tip of his toes, ready to strike.  
  
However, without warning, the kusarigama emerges from inside Frostbyte’s fur lined suit. It twists through the air, in almost a figure of eight before he swings it directly into Nico’s path. Nico moves instinctively, sliding backwards on his heels, keeping his posture stiff, his eyes on Frostbyte. He moves once more, sliding out into the snow in the simulator.  
  
Frostbyte again swings his weapon in Nico’s direction, hitting the snow where Nico had been a few seconds prior. His face is still unmoving. Nico dodges the kusarigama, feels the top of the chain just barely brush over his hair. He can hear the machinery move inside his arm just audible over the snow falling inside the glass room they’re encased in.  
  
Frostbyte goes for another hit; this time, it’s on target. Nico bites back the groan of pain as the sickle shaped blade plunges into his arm – there’s no blood – just the crunch of metal on metal. Nico winces as he quickly moves to pull the blade out of his arm – he grits his teeth as he sees the damage done, a few of the wires have snapped and the metal of his arm is dented, nothing that cannot be fixed.  
  
“So it is true.” Frostbyte says, thickly. “You are part android.”  
  
The blade clatters to the floor. Dark green eyes survey the blonde carefully. He doesn’t think about Lewis in that moment, he thinks only of the person he’s become; the old Nico is gone, the human Nico is gone, the one with flesh and feelings, replaced by a shinier, tougher version of himself – no longer dulled by pain, able to carry out anything without distraction.  
  
Frostbyte glances at him with something akin to pity in his eyes. Nico wonders if he knows he’s lost himself.  


* * *

  
  
Knockout, Daniil Kvyat, stands in the boxing ring before Nico, strapping on his boxing gloves. His face is strangely vacant of a smile, concentration settles over his features.  
  
Nico nods and slips in his mouth shield. The first punch inflicted doesn’t knock him out, he counts it as a small mercy as he stumbles back against the ropes. The punches rain down on him but he doesn’t give up, he feels the sweat cascade down his back, feels the pain spring into every muscle, bloom over his cheekbone. Nico pushes back thoughts of Lewis, of Lewis’s smile, of Lewis whispering I love you against his skin – he grabs hold of Knockout and lands a punch to the jaw.  
  
Knockout stumbles back, eyes dark with anger.  
  
Nico continues to push away the thoughts, he feels the strength building inside him. He’s different now, he can feel himself morphing into a hardened diamond, untouched, unmarred, unbreakable.  


* * *

  
  
The motorbike feels like home underneath him. He tugs on the helmet, his features stony as he watches the simulation begin. He presses his foot down on the accelerator, easing off the handbrake. The bike slides over the floor with ease, purring into life. Nico leans forward, keen to become streamlined, to pick up some speed. The bike opposite him inches closer, the other rider comes into view. Nico narrows his eyes as he watches the rider ease alongside him. He grits his teeth, pressing forward. He twists the bike through the turns, with an expert hand, his reflexes reacting quickly to the change in scenery. The other rider stays close, weaving through the barriers as though they aren’t there.  
  
Nico pulls off his helmet. The other rider mirrors him, pulling off his own helmet – the smiling face of Jenson Button stares back at him, his blonde hair gleams in the harsh lights of the training room.  
  
“I think you’re ready, Nico.” He says slowly, the smile fades from his face slightly. Nico looks at his oldest friend – they shared a room together when they began their assassin training. Jenson knows almost everything about Nico – not as much as Lewis does, but Lewis _knows_ Nico, they are one and the same. Jenson watched Lewis knock down the walls around Nico, he watched Nico open up to Lewis, watched him give him everything. He watched Lewis change, become different, become the man that Nico thinks of as a stranger, the man who destroyed the remnants of Nico Rosberg, made him half a machine, half unfeeling, half flesh.  
  
“I don’t feel ready, Domino.” Nico uses Jenson’s codename, he tries not to catch blue eyes. He doesn’t want to see the pity reflected in them.  
  
“You may never feel ready,” Jenson says, his voice monotone.  
  
“I can’t kill him,”  
  
“I never expected you could,”  
  
“But we can’t go back to the way things were, Domino. Things have changed too much, he’s changed too much.” Nico says, finally meeting Jenson’s eyes.  
  
“I know,” Jenson replies, his look is unreadable; Nico can spot the pity, the hurt, the anger flicker over Jenson’s features – he tries to ignore them. He pushes away all thoughts of Lewis – they’re not the man he once knew – they’re not the men they once were, they’ve changed beyond all recognition, caricatures of what they once were. Hurt ripples through Nico’s chest, it hurts, everything hurts nowadays; despite his lack of flesh, the wires do not hide the hurt, the pain, the anger. That will always remain.  


* * *

  
  
“You are ready, Nico.” The Headmaster glances through his training record, the smile on his face is wistful and controlled.  
  
Nico nods. He doesn’t feel ready, he is not sure if he ever will be. He feels the wires inside him contort, the machinery click, it sounds like home to him now, when it once sounded foreign. He wonders if that’s a sign that he has changed.  


* * *

  
  
Nico sees Lewis from across the battlefield – he looks different, more battle worn, there’s a new scratch across his cheek that wasn’t there before. He looks bloody, bruised, battered, but his eyes still shine with the intensity that Nico is familiar with. Nico feels a familiar pull inside his chest, his heart seems to speed up, rattling against his ribcage. He feels Jenson’s hand at his arm, comforting, strong – almost reminding me to see Lewis not as an old friend, but as the enemy.  
  
Lewis steps forward into the light, his katana is sheathed to his back, his eyes blaze with a certain intensity. They fix on Nico and never leave the blonde’s form as he paces forward, he squares his shoulders, his eyes unwavering, his fingers wrapped around his gun. Nico doesn’t want to think about the Lewis before, the Lewis who brushed their lips together when they were younger, the Lewis whose brown eyes glittered when he was pressed into sheets by Nico’s pale fingers, the Lewis who arched his back as Nico thrust into him, they gave each other everything and now they have nothing; they stand on a battlefield of ashes and broken trust, dreams, hope.  
  
“Did you miss me?” Lewis asks, his voice is clear and accentuated.  
  
Nico doesn’t answer, he remains in his stance, his finger dances over the trigger of his gun.  
  
“It’s okay to say you did, Nico.” Lewis says, his eyes shining. The fire dances around the pair, showcasing off the damage, the destruction – there’s nothing left of the city – nothing to salvage, it’s fitting really, Nico thinks.  
  
“I’ve come to retrieve the suitcase from you, Arsyn.” Nico says.  
  
Lewis raises an eyebrow at Nico’s nickname; he hasn’t heard the blonde say his stage name since that night. He blinks slowly; twice, as though to destroy the memory.  
  
“I have no suitcase, Catastrophe. I completed my assignment and passed it off to the person it needed to go to.”  
  
“I can’t believe you went back to McLaren, after how they treated you, Lewis.” Nico spits, he’s angry, he’s angry that Lewis would throw everything away  - throw them away – for his old organisation. Nico knows how they treated him; like dirt, made him do all their dirty work, made him unfeeling and hardened. Nico had pulled him away from them, he’d made Lewis realise that having feelings wasn’t a weakness. They’d tumbled into bed that night; their lips brushed together, Nico remembers Lewis’s hand fisting in his hair, the trust burning in his eyes.  
  
The trust has been extinguished from Lewis’s eyes; there’s nothing reflected back in them. Nico bites his lip, his fingers tighten around his gun. He stalks forward until he’s face to face with the man he loves – the man he loved, the man that he would have done anything for. Lewis watches him carefully, his face gives away no emotion.  
  
“How could you do this to me, Lewis?” Nico whispers, his voice barely audible.  
  
Lewis purses his lips and remains unmoving. “How could you betray me, Lewis? I thought…I thought that I meant something to you. I can’t believe-“  
  
“They were going to hurt you, Nico.” Lewis finally says, his voice is quiet. “They were going to kill you. I had to do something.”  
  
“You could have told me. I would have helped you, the Headmaster would have-“  
  
Lewis shakes his head. “I couldn’t. I did what was necessary. I hurt you and for that, I am sorry.”  
  
“Sorry doesn’t excuse the fact that you broke my spine when you kicked me out of the window, Lewis.” Nico hisses, his eyes dark with anger.  
  
Lewis stumbles back at the revelation, his eyes full of hurt and confusion. “I broke your spine-“  
  
“I’m part android now, Lewis. I’m not even human anymore. I look human, but under this is a mass of wires and circuitry making sure that I can still walk and talk. You ruined me, McLaren got what they wanted – they got rid of the one thing that made you weak – me.”  
  
“You never made me weak, Nico.” Lewis’s eyes are almost pleading.  
  
“Then why?” Nico loses the thin thread of his temper and his hand moves out of his own accord into a fist – he slams it in Lewis’s face, watching the dark-skinned man stumble back. “Why did you do this? For honour? To do the right thing?”  
  
Lewis glances at Nico, still holding onto his cheek, the skin already beginning to bruise. “I did it for you, Nico. They were going to kill you, I couldn’t let that happen.”  
  
“You betrayed me, Lewis. You let me believe that you didn’t care about me anymore.”  
  
“I care about you, I wanted to find you, I wanted to make sure you were alright.” Lewis’s eyes look desperate and dark, he’s barely holding onto his control.  
  
“What happened to the suitcase?” Nico cuts off Lewis.  
  
“I never delivered it to McLaren. I couldn’t betray you like that.” Lewis states.  
  
“Too late for betrayal.” Nico snaps, his eyes lock with Lewis’s. “You’ve already inflicted that damage, Lewis.”  
  
Nico glances closely at Lewis – at the man he loves – loved – he thinks about their lives entwined together, about their first kiss, about the trust in Lewis’s eyes – the trust that still exists within those brown depths – about their fingers tangling together, their bodies pressed against each other, about the promises they whispered to each other, that they would never change, that they would love each other for an eternity. Those memories feel distant – murky, almost translucent – they seem foreign, they scratch under the surface of Nico’s skin. He glances into Lewis’s eyes – he feels the flicker of his past emotions, of his feelings – he still loves Lewis but they can never be the same – he bites his lip and blinks back tears.  
  
“It’s too late, Lewis. We can’t repair what is broken.” Nico says, his voice soft.  
  
“Nico-“ Lewis begins.  
  
“No, Lewis, we have to do what is right and walk away from this. We’ve hurt each other too much. We can’t go back to the partners we once were.”  
  
“This can’t be goodbye, Nico.”  
  
“For now, it is.” Nico states before he turns on his heel and walks away from Lewis.  
  
He feels a tug of pain twist over his body, despite the wires and circuits in place of flesh – there’s a constant ache that he cannot seem to rid himself off. He continues walking, the pain continues. Lewis watches him leave, he feels the same bone-deep ache in his chest.  
  
The city continues to burn.  



End file.
